


That Way Madness Lies

by Rabentochter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Loki (Marvel), Dark Tony Stark, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Happy Ending, Humor, Loki (Marvel) Lies, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Near Death Experiences, POV Loki (Marvel), Pining, Possessive Behavior, Unreliable Narrator, Warning: Loki (Marvel), protective Friday (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 23:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20416286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: There was something about Anthony Stark that wouldn't leave Loki alone. He had to get to know him better and he would not stop until he was his, even when it took years to accomplish.





	That Way Madness Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AMidnightDreary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/gifts).

> Honestly? This is all **AMidnightsDreary**'s fault. Again. Everything that happens here. I wash my hand in innocence. 
> 
> Also this fills the Bingo square N5: "It's been 84 years..." 😆 (Titanic reference)

There was something about Anthony Stark that wouldn’t leave Loki alone. He hadn’t become one of his minions when Loki had put the sceptre to his chest (his heart), instead he remained his own man. It was fascinating. Loki loved a good riddle; in fact, he loved them so much he resorted to figuring them out with violence if necessary and directed all his attention towards the problem until it was solved. It was what he was. And that was why he returned, again and again, to New York to see Anthony Stark and challenged him to a fight.

The mortal was witty, he was trying to redeem himself for problems he thought were his fault and he was a fascinating mortal to watch. Loki loved fighting him until they were both bleeding and sweating, when their armours were more torn than whole and they were so close to another, a repulsor and a knife to their hearts but neither would do the _last step_. Because they were too fascinated by another and, what used to be Loki’s shame when they first met, addicted.

Loki was glad it had taken him only a few weeks after the invasion on New York to become Anthony’s obsession. Oh, he knew because he had his men still _everywhere _because money was what ruled the world, not a sceptre or a stone. They reported back to him in obvious glee how frustrated SI’s CEO was with Anthony and his lack of new inventions, hell bent apparently on getting Loki. He basked in the attention like a starving man and Loki didn’t care. Those eyes on him, the hunger and frustration, it was _lovely_. And he wanted more.

He wanted Anthony Stark completely wrecked, desired him for himself and turned away from the Avengers and on his side. And he would not stop until he got what he wanted.

He sat down at the table in the restaurant, a confusion spell in place so that nobody would pay all too close attention to his face. Only _one_would be able to recognise him. The meeting Anthony had to attend started twenty minutes ago – the genius would arrive within the next few minutes. Then, Hel would break loose and Anthony would be his for the next hour. He asked for a Pizza with noodles on it, a charming smile on his lips, his eyes on the door.

“Where are you, Anthony,” he mumbled, full of anticipation.

He wasn’t disappointed by his favourite Avenger. He wore sunglasses – at night – a cleverly designed suit and his goatee was trimmed again. He looked good, too good, Loki found and waited until Anthony had sat down, exchanged a few pleasantries with his business people, then he clinked with the spoon against his wine glass.

It was an innocent sound. So pure, so clear, so _dreadful _in its meaning. There were people who clinked their glasses to launch a happy speech for a couple to be married or to toast to someone’s success; Loki toasted to the upcoming battle. The restaurant fell silent when Anthony Stark closed the suitcase shut and pulled his sunglasses down again. It was on. Loki smiled.

Clinked again.

“What a surprise to see you here, Loki.”

“Indeed.” Loki smiled at the handsome profile. “Why don’t you look me in the eyes, _Anthony_?”

“Precaution, you understand.” Anthony chuckled. “One never knows if you don’t draw inspiration from Medusa, _darling_.”

“A delightful idea.” Loki waited with the utmost patience as people all around them stood up, leaving for the exit. There was this rule to Anthony and his fights. Everybody had the right to flee – except for them both because then the other would have won. It was exciting. Fun to watch the sheep fleeing from their god and master. He took a sip from his wine and loosened his bowtie.

This time, Anthony clinked against the table and in the blink of a second, was in his armour and blasted Loki.

It hurt where the beam had hit him in the chest but Anthony would pay back for that later. The genius knew that, of course. But that was the fun in it.

Loki laughed as he stood up from where he was sitting on the floor, forming his own armour around him. “That took you longer than usually, Anthony.”

“Fuck you,” Anthony replied with enthusiasm in his voice. “Fuck you.”

“Only if you let me do you,” Loki answered with a purr, then charged forward.

Flirting was a big element to their fights and it had come to a point where Loki wasn’t sure anymore if they both even knew any longer that they were _enemies_and _not supposed _to flirt with another or if the lines had become so blurred by now that it didn’t even matter anymore. He hoped for the latter. Anthony Stark in his bed was an image Loki hadn’t gotten out of his head for years now and he met the man in 2012 Midgard counting. Now it was early 2016, and life was _amazing_. Asgard was still hunting him – without success – and Thor was off – Muspelheim – doing something heroic again.

He blocked Anthony’s fist, let himself be flown upwards to the sky, away from the civilians. If that was how Anthony wanted to play today, then Loki would let him. It was Friday. He rammed a knife in the sides of the armour, cutting a cable that might have been important in the former Mark XLII, but not now anymore. Anthony learnt by fighting him. He ripped the visor off, wanting to see the handsome face for himself.

Iron Man kneed his groin, made him double over in pain.

“You moan so prettily,” Anthony chuckled and his lips were ghosting over Loki’s ear shell. “All for me?” Then he let him drop.

And Loki appeared back on the street and set the restaurant on fire.

That was when the screaming started.

There was Iron Man, attacking him and throwing grenade alike at him which felt like they were slowing him down but he wasn’t sure, not when he had his eyes on Anthony, and the visor safely secured in his leather tunic, pressing cold against his own cold skin. It was _his _now. He wouldn’t let go of his prize, not for anything in this world unless it was Anthony. But they weren’t at this point yet.

Even when voices were louder than ever before claiming that Tony Stark, _Iron Man_, was spending too much time on wrecking New York than actually fighting him. But Loki made sure that whoever said that would be found hanging from a building because nobody had the right to slander Anthony’s name except from him. No, Loki would not let Anthony be shoved into his direction, he could do that on his own. First he had to solve the puzzle before he could decide whether Anthony would survive him, or not. It was as simple as that.

There was the smell of blood in the air, reminding him of the days where he was out and hunting with Thor; days where he didn’t like hunting and rather read his books. He still preferred reading. But now he wanted to read while petting Anthony’s hair, press kisses to his lips than to do that on his own. He needed to know and _understand_, first.

He hated not understanding.

Then he had Anthony on his back, looming over him, feeling disappointed. It hadn’t even been an hour yet.

“So quick to give up?”

“I am _deeply sorry _if I cannot live up to your standard,” Anthony drawled, panted. “But I _was_trying to figure out a new device to capture you and couldn’t sleep _because of that_.”

“You couldn’t sleep because of me?” Loki cooed at the hero beneath me. He stroked over his cheek with the back of his fingers, surprised and then, not, when Anthony didn’t even flinch at that. “What an honour.”

Anthony chuckled. “Sure. An _honour_.”

“Make-up?” Loki guessed as he looked at the _normal _looking eyebags from Anthony.

“Yeah.” A squint. “That’s a bit weird you can guess that, just so you know.”

“It is weird that I pay attention to you?”

“Put it like that, no.”

“Glad you think so.”

“Me too. Thanks for letting yourself be distracted.” A whirring in the air.

Loki looked up – then got hit by a shield straight in the chest, ripping the chest plate he was holding onto, away. It made a horrible crunching like when you broke an arm off and Loki figured that was a fair comparison. He vanished the plate into his pockets. He had already three of them. Maybe he could send this one back with a message.

He stood up, dusted himself off and threw an unimpressed glare at Rogers.

“Don’t you know it is considered as rude to interrupt a date, Rogers?”

“Don’t you know it is rude to sit on people without asking them first?” Rogers shot back.

Loki tilted his head to one side, peered at Anthony. “He doesn’t look like he minded me doing that overly much.”

“That is-“

Loki threw a green blast at Rogers and a knife straight after, getting him to shut up. Really, he was annoying.

“Well now, _that_was rude.” Anthony raised his arms, his beams glowing blue and white. “Poor Cap, getting interrupted after he finally learns to banter with villains.”

“Only you get to banter with me,” Loki replied happily, shooting Anthony as well.

That was the cue where the rest of the Avengers got involved in. _Boring_, that was Loki’s sentence. Boring, more boring and even more boring. There was nothing more boring than fighting the Avengers now after he had come so close to Anthony again. _Boring_.

His seiðr projected his feelings, shooting to the left and right, pulled wingman from the sky – mortals weren’t worthy of soaring through the air – and shredded one metallic wing to prevent him from doing so again. But the screams indicated he could have missed a bit and met something else. He didn’t care. His eyes were on Anthony. He was directing mortals towards safe places, in houses, in the canalisation if they could get into it. That was clever.

A shame Loki liked the grounds down there.

He disappeared, losing himself in the streak of madness he loved more than darkness and Anthony. He’d give his mortal a few days to create this infernal device the talked about earlier, giving him the time to get more sleep and more time to think about him in the same second too. There were only advantages to this. Nobody was here anymore, all gone, and he stood there, blood running down hotly his face and felt content again.

The visor he had won rightfully was put on his table and made himself tea. The chest plate got thrown into a corner. There was little to be done about it. Maybe one day he would need it again. He finished his cup with tea.

He missed Anthony already. Heimdall’s gaze was searching for him again, like it tended to do after a battle. He would never find him unless Loki allowed it. Sometimes he let his protection slip in a supermarket or at a convention when he knew _exactly _the Einherjar couldn’t go here without risking killing even more mortals. Which wasn’t something Odin had a problem with but Thor. And since Thor was a good man, a good heir and the other_son_was out and did what he wanted, Odin did his best to ensure that at least one of his sons would stay true to him.

Maybe things would have been different had Odin let him attend Frigga’s funeral. But he had neither been invited, nor had someone from the family possessed the grace of telling him by themselves No. Of course not. That would have been too easy, too nice for someone like _him_. He deserved nothing nice. That was why he had been put in prison. Someone could have asked him about New York, but no. Too nice. Too simple. Not that Loki had many interesting things to tell about his time with Thanos, but surely someone would be interested in the mastermind behind his plan? But no. So he broke out of prison since day one, day for day, got caught and put back, day for day. But he got each day further and further and the guards needed sleep. Loki hadn’t needed sleep in a long time.

He laid down on bed, rested his eyes for a bit.

When he stood up again, he was feeling restless. He always did. It was like an itch he could never reach, never scratch until it felt good again. So he had to do good with what he could do – which meant causing mischief. He went into a library and made the characters appear, terrified a few mortals and felt a bit better again. There were pirates, Romans, historical important figures and somewhere, there were comic book heroes and villains, fighting their own battles. Loki sat down and watched them, got joined by a few kids who were here without parents – stupid, very stupid – and distributed popcorn. Sweet one, not salty like it was common here.

He left eventually. It reminded him too much of Anthony and his sweet voice and the mystery that he was.

Life continued.

Thor was doing heroic stupid deeds and Loki made sure that there was a dragon awake on Muspelheim to chase and roast him for a bit because the God of Thunder _aflame_? Hilarious. He sent a picture to Anthony with a “Love, Loki,” attached.

Blurred lines, as he said. Somehow there was a phone in his letterbox when he came back from his adventure and a message on it. A simple “**;)**” because it said more than enough. Apparently. Loki didn’t fully understand it but that was even more so why he was fascinated by Anthony.

He made himself a drink and watched the news. It was terrible convenient way to keep eyes on someone that famous and popular like Anthony Stark. Not all was good in the house Avengers, it seemed. There had been an attack on a city and people had died and it seemed like the Midgardians finally had enough of their heroes. Loki nodded along to what the people said. Yes, that all made sense. And Anthony was trying to work with the UN?

_No_.

Cold desperation was clutching his heart.

_No_. If that was truly the case then –

He wasn’t as deeply ingrained in Anthony as he had hoped. The UN meant working with _good people_, meant choosing _humanity _above Loki. He hadn’t led him astray enough it seemed. He was still too good. And here Loki was, fighting and flirting with him, making him think about him all day, for _years_. There had nearly been a break-up because of him. Anthony was “too obsessed” with him for it to be healthy but that wasn’t the case – not at all. Anthony was obsessed with him but he was even more enticed by the idea to be a _hero_, to be a good man like his father always told him to be by talking about Steve Rogers and oh yes, Loki _knew_. He knew it all because there had been these few hours where JARVIS had gone offline last year and he still didn’t know why. But he had been attackable and Loki downloaded everything that was marked as sensitive and watched the material.

Howard Stark was a good match for Odin Borson.

Loki had been weeping for his Stark, had sworn to avenge his destroyed morals and promised to rectify them one day. Nobody deserved having to put up with such a goodie-two-shoes like Rogers or Thor. Nobody. Because nobody could live up to their image and would be ruined for the rest of their lives. Just look at him.

“Am I not right?” he mumbled and lifted the cup to his lips. He smiled bitterly. “One day you will thank me for this, Anthony.”

His heart beat faster when they showed footage of Anthony speaking in clear favour of the restrictions of the UN – and it seemed most the Avengers weren’t on his side. Loki frowned. He had tried to get Anthony, not the Avengers. What did he care for the Avengers? They weren’t who Loki wanted.

They weren’t what he _wanted_. Four years, four years he had sat here and fought outside, four entire years and what did he get for his infinite patience? _Nothing_. His hero, an even better man than before. The Avengers, a good beginning, getting more corrupted by the year. Oh the secrets that he knew, the people he knew, the rumours he could have strewn to disassemble them faster than an Iron Man suit could form on Anthony –

If he couldn’t have Anthony, nobody could. Humanity didn’t deserve him. Humanity would be Antony’s downfall in a few years anyway because he –

Loki patted the visor with trembling fingers. A shame, it was a shame to end it so early but at least it decided for him already if Anthony was fit to survive or not. He probably was but he wouldn’t get the chance to.

It was night in Europe.

He dressed in a suit, all dark and black like people did for funerals here – only a red bow because Anthony deserved that much. There wasn’t much else he could do only to make it quick – no suffering, yes.

His seiðr folded around him, pulled him on Yggdrasil’s branches and away from his home.

It was dark.

There was a rhythmic breathing, deep and slow.

He smiled. Anthony was asleep. That was good. He deserved that much. Without making a noise he climbed on the bed, sitting down next to his genius and regarded him in the green light his seiðr provided. He looked beautiful bathed in the green light. Relaxed, younger than he did during day and the bags weren’t as dark as they usually tended to be.

“I am so sorry that it had to come to this,” Loki mumbled and lifted his other hand hesitantly. His veins were glowing green, almost too dark to be seen. It was a shame that life had to end this way but he wouldn’t hesitate any longer.

“_I am sure Sir would appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch him_,” someone drawled from the phone next to Anthony’s head.

Loki raised his brows. “You aren’t JARVIS.”

“_No_.” A silent second passed.

“Then who are you?”

_“My name is FRIDAY.”_

_Friday_. Loki felt his own eyes go wide. Friday. Friday was a good name. Friday was his mother’s name day.

“Friday,” he said slowly to taste the name on his tongue. It was sweet and soft like she had been, her eyes glowing with warmth and love. He pulled his hand back. “Does he know about the name’s origin?” he asked gently, his heart calming and feeling overcame by emotions he couldn’t place.

“_He does_.”

Loki thought he could hear a smile in FRIDAY’s voice. He let his hand drop and stroked over the sharply trimmed goatee instead. There was no need to –

Dark brown eyes were staring at him.

_Lovely_, his mind whispered. _Lovely, clad in your green_. He was.

Loki felt a sincere smile pull on his lips and let it show. The dark brown eyes blinked, then fell back asleep. That was all right. They needed their sleep to look upon Loki tomorrow again.

“Sleep well, Anthony.” Loki looked at his genius again. It was _his _genius, for sure.

_“Thank you,” _FRIDAY said because she was polite and by that, even fitter to bear his mother’s protection. Loki adored her already.

Loki left his genius behind and resorted to watching Anthony from the TV. His genius was busy with the heroes. Soon, they would be for their own, just the two of them. Well there was the matter of Thor but he was easy enough to be dealt with. Loki had no problems with that. Later though. Not now.

And soon enough the Avengers splintered and fell apart like a card house, not needed anymore, nor wanted. Loki grew excited.

And he went to the Avengers Tower and had a chat with FRIDAY. There had been tea.

Anthony didn’t need his help when he returned from a dark place all by himself, his eyes darker than before and there was blood on his face and his suit got carried in the workshop by his robots.

He returned that night the chest plate he had won a while ago and attached it to the torn suit. From there on it was easy to let his seiðr flow into the suit, repaired it while mumbling protection spells and enhanced the suit where he could and remembered what he had read about it. There were wheels and cables he didn’t remember but were apparently important so he left them alone.

When he stepped back the suit looked better than ever – there were green veins flowing over the red and gold, shining darkly and the door behind him opened.

“_It’s been 84 years_ since we last saw each other.”

Loki chuckled when the sound of Anthony’s voice reached him. “Did you miss me?”

A warm laughter. “Did nobody ever tell you to leave things alone you do not own?”

“Yes. But I decided not to listen.” Loki tapped against the suit. “The next time we meet I want you to wear this.” He turned around to Anthony who stared at him with a small smile. “You’ll last longer than an hour then.”

“What about you?”

“About me?” Loki winked. “I’ll have my fun.” He stepped aside, let Anthony take a closer look at the suit.

“It’s pretty,” Anthony stated, remarkably sober.

“It is.”

“Why?”

“Why not.” Loki chuckled. He ran a hand down Anthony’s arm, the genius shivering in delight. “After you got rid of your arc reactor.”

“How do you know-“

“There was a blue glow in your chest last time we met. And someone told me to make sure your heart is protected by something stronger than gold-titanium-alloy.”

“FRIDAY.”

“Indeed.” Loki ran his hand up again. “Don’t be angry at her. Not after-“

“You _visited _me to kill me.”

“I did.”

Anthony rose his brows. “Any interest in explaining why you’d do that to me?”

“I thought I lost you,” Loki whispered and he stepped closer to his genius. “That all my years of flirting and courting you-“

“Is that what you call courting?” Anthony chuckled. “Fighting another? Making me obsessed with you to the point Pepper broke up with me because you are so deep on my mind I called your name rather than hers?”

“Yes.” Loki brought his lips to Anthony’s ear. “I call that courting. I let you see the possibilities you didn’t care for anymore and showed you a way –“

“Stop lying,” Anthony laughed and turned towards him. “You were just a crazy and obsessed son of a _bastard_, not a mastermind. Maybe things would have run differently without you but you aren’t the reason alone the Avengers had to go.”

“No?”

“Turns out I don’t like being choked by people unless it is you.”

Warmth rose in Loki. “Don’t you?”

“And I don’t like teammates not telling me _important _things like that they know my parents’ murderer. I don’t like being exploited. Are you even aware that I had the most fun fighting you because I didn’t have to _think _for a few minutes?”

“No.” _Yes_.

“Awesome. Because all I saw was you and all I felt was the freedom like I had in the early days of Iron Man.”

“Then you’ll fight me again?”

Dark eyes looked at him with a smile. “Of course. And then I want to meet you here,” Anthony whispered and his hands drew Loki in, close, so close. “And _finally, _have you fuck me like you said you would.” His skin turned hot.

“What-“

“Extremis,” Anthony replied like it was nothing. “I thought it would be a good idea considering who I was chasing and that I had a god who’d outlive me otherwise for millennials.”

“Oh,” Loki breathed then surged forward and crashed his lips to Anthony’s. Because he didn’t know what else to do in such a situation. Extremis, _for him_. He smiled in the kiss, raked his fingers through Anthony’s hair and caught the blood on his lip.

Then he was shoved back. “I see you in ten,” Anthony said happily. “Don’t you dare to go easy on me, now that we’ve got things sorted out.”

“I would never,” Loki breathed and stared with wonder at his genius.

“Oh and for the record,” Anthony said as the armour fitted itself around him. “If I win, I want your coat.”

“Then you should do your best to get it,” Loki chuckled and let himself be dragged by metallic hands through the ceiling and upwards in the sky for another fight.

Life was fantastic and they were surrounded by space and silence and he leant forward, his legs slung around a slim waist, and kissed his genius.


End file.
